Unforgettable
by Chimerae
Summary: There are always those little things you can never forget. A friendly smile, a small wave, or maybe when someone saves your life. Chell lived an ordinary life, nothing too special, and that was all right with her. Until someone stumbles into her life and changes it forever. Humanized Wheatley, AU, Chelley.
1. An Ordinary Life

There are always those little things you can never forget.

A friendly smile, a small wave, or maybe when someone saves your life.

* * *

Chell, however, never really made a big deal out of those things. Sure, the little things were always great and all, but they aren't worth celebrating or dwelling over. She always saved that for bigger things, like keeping her job, paying bills, and living her life. Those are the things that really matter, and the little things could wait until the "Three Big Important Life Principles" were fulfilled. Then, who knows! Maybe she would give someone her best impression of a friendly smile. But right now, responsibilities exist, so she never had the time to appreciate those things, even less notice them.

So she was absolutely speechless when one of those things happened to her.

It was the average day in Chell's life. She walked to work along the bustling city streets, the atmosphere of gasoline and loud chatter filling the air. Everything she was used to, and she wouldn't intend on changing a thing. It was a Spring day in May, with the perfect weather for a pleasant stroll to work. Her spirits high and her mood bright, she went about her business at work. It was a typical desk job, too easy for her, even. She typed articles and saw where she went with them, proofread, and published. Once she even made the front page, which was the little thing that she was able to appreciate, and even celebrate, but that's about it. Simple, but it managed to pay the bills and it was something that she could have fun with, explore. She had a fair audience and an overall average career. Her life was stable, just the way she wanted it.

Nothing too crazy, and that was okay.

The biggest highlight of Chell's career, maybe even her life, was actually the one front page article she wrote; "Three Big Important Life Principles" which was what her life revolved around. According to her readers, she wasn't the only one. The article was about the three things that can lead to any person having a normal, happy life, no more and no less. It covered three points that mattered to her, job, bills, and a pinch of fun to add some flavor. After it was published, she received an anonymous review that kept her thinking.

"What about love?"

Love was something she never really thought over that much. She can't actually _remember _falling in love, but for some reason she knew what it felt like. It was an odd feeling of déjà vu that came to her on some occasions, and was actually pretty common in her life. Chell just shrugs it off, and goes back to whatever it is she was doing before.

She shut down the computer and gathered her things, barely noticing the small stains her coffee cup left behind on the napkins. Then, she glanced back sharply and stared at them for a few moments. The stains ignited some of that déjà vu, and big time. It made her stop to catch her breath, and she had no idea why. This symbol was _somehow _important to her. It was shaped like a circle, which was broken into some sorts of triangles along the inside. The center was empty. She turned the napkin into different angles, hoping that her brain would just tell her what it was, but unfortunately it was symmetrical, and nothing of the sort happened.

She stared at the symbol for a few more seconds before swiftly grabbing it off her desk and folding it up into small squares. She felt lightheaded. Dizzy, even. But why? Why could a simple cut up circle mean so much? _That's it. _She decided. _I'm going absolutely crazy. I knew it would lead to this someday._

She put it away and put on a straight face as she passed co-workers, pushing it to the back of her mind. It brought up some initials eventually. A.S. How the hell was she supposed to make something out of that? Writing an article on going mad because of circles and "the mysterious A.S." wasn't exactly going to change her life.

She stepped out of the building and paced down the sidewalk, reviewing and trying to connect the dots between the symbol and all of the other cases like this. It felt like remembering, but what was there to remember? Besides this occurrence, she remembered a moment when watching golf and watching a ball go through an orange circle and come out a blue one, which left many wondering if she had seen a ghost. White walls always freaked her out for some reason. And science. _Science. _It was a word that made her lose her mind. She couldn't take it. Whether it was television or the subject or even the poor guy who had to write the science column that seemed to be growing wary of her glares.

As a stoplight turned to red, she stepped onto the crosswalk thinking about cakes and science.

That was all she remembered before it faded to black.


	2. Blue

ThisGuyHere: You just pressed the button. Thanks so much for reviewing! :D

I couldn't wait too much longer so here, have some Wheatley. Now stuff actually starts happening. If I don't decide to be dumb I'll update this pretty often. So enjoy chapter two!

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The first thing Chell saw when she came to her senses was blue.

It felt like she was staring into an endless ocean, or a clear sky. It was pure blue, too bright even. Like the pools that children rush into before putting on sunblock, despite the mother's protests. Or the butterflies that come out in the spring and hide away for the winter.

As she became more and more aware, she noticed that that she wasn't at the beach, or looking up. And that the pools of bright blue she saw were in fact, eyes. Eyes hidden behind a dark frame of large glasses. Eyes that looked really concerned. She examined further. Below these eyes she noticed a slightly angled nose right above a mouth, which seemed to be moving pretty fast. She wondered briefly why. Were they directed at her? Why would they be directed at her? That was dumb.

Then as she looked higher she saw yellow. Bright, bright yellow. Reflecting all of the sun's intensity onto her face. She almost squinted at the brightness, but then she realized she was looking at hair.

Then she started to listen. It was muffled at first, like a car blasting music in the distance, but it became clearer and clearer until—

"… And then you just stepped out! In the middle of all of these massive moving… things! Machines! Like nothing in Aperture that I've seen! I thought you were going mad. Actually, that brain damage might just be kicking in. You should probably get that checked, by the way. Not that it's a real big problem, just might get in your way at times. Like maybe, right now. But those monster machines, they…"

Wow, those were a lot of words. Chell wondered if she could sleep now. Sleep sounded really great right now. She relaxed and began to close her eyes…

"Chell! Chell?! No, don't do that! Don't go into the light! You can't go into the light! Chell, please, come on!"

That voice. That _accent. _It was so disturbingly familiar. So incredibly _confusing._ How did she know, how did she know…

Her eyes snapped open. What was going on?

"Who are you? How do you know my name?"

"You're awake! Well, of course you're awake. But you're conscious! I knew that wouldn't mess you up too bad, just as planned! Wait, no, you're talking! Ah, well, I, uh, that did go exactly as planned! I planned that perfectly."

Chell responded to this by raising an eyebrow.

" Oh, right, um. You don't remember me? You know, Wheatley? The Wheatley who helped you in Aperture. Might have saved you some times there. You know me, right? Uh, no you don't remember me, do you. All right, I may have to fill you in on a few things. I assure you, this was part of the plan too! It will come back to me eventually, I'm sure of it."

"My head's fine, if that's what you're implying. "

At this point he started chattering on about brain damage and exposure, and Chell started to hear something else. It sounded almost like a soft whisper nudging the back of her head. Then it grew louder and louder until—

"Get the hell off the streets, you lunatics!" Shouted a man, looking very frustrated as he made some obscene gestures.

Street?

She looked around, and surely enough, there was a street. And cars. And she just so happened to be lying on the street. The stranger—Wheatley, was it? – looked around quite anxiously as he began to explain something to her. She brought herself up to her elbows and stared at him blankly for a few seconds until he hit the brake in that winding sentence and stared back wide-eyed.

"What?" He sputtered out.

"Wheatley. We're in the middle of a street."

"Well, yes. I thought you were aware that some of those other filth—humans. Some other humans were alerting us about that. Not too sure what it could possibly mean, though."

She stared at him, bewildered, until a horn snapped her out of that trance and she gripped his hand tight enough to cut off any blood flow there could be there. Pulling tightly, she lunged for the sidewalk and heard the car speed away hurriedly.

Then she faced the man with the bright blue eyes. He stood well around a foot taller than her, wearing some clothes that suggested that he might have not been as abnormal as she thought. He wore a blue button-up which seemed to match his eyes, with some navy blue pants and neatly tied-up shoes. Crazy or not, at that moment Chell felt nothing but anger towards this guy.

"What the hell is going on?" She demanded with a glare.

"Whoa there! Calm down, luv. Everything is fine! See, thanks to that excellent quick thinking you did just there, we're perfectly fine! Nice job on that, by the way. Those machine-beasts can't get us now, right?" The last word brought a worried, questioning smile to his face.

"Not right! Not right at all! Who are you? How do you know me? _Why did you knock me down in the middle of a street?!"_

"I was right! I was right all along. Oh, no. Ohhh, no. This can't be good. I knew it would have some effect. I told you, serious brain damage! And wasn't little old Wheatley right? Of course! Morons, they called me. Well, who's the moron now?! Not—"

"Sorry to interrupt your little rant there, but what? Brain damage? What does that have to do with me? Are you calling me crazy?"

"What? No! Of course I'm not. You're not crazy at all. You're fine, perfectly fine. Just a bit, well, brain damaged." He watched her face grow more and more stern with every word. "Okay, look. You're probably _really_ confused right now. And that's okay! That's completely normal, you should expect confusion!"

"_Normal?_"

"But I assure you, you'll remember what I'm talking about soon enough! Trust me, I know it."

"_Brain damaged?_"

"Well, to put it into better words, it's just a bit of cogn—"

"No! I think I'm the one who should be calling _you _brain-damaged! You knock me into the street, almost get me _killed, _knock me out, and now you're calling _me _brain-damaged? And telling _me _that I have some sort of problem? I don't think so. How dare you! You're such a _moron!"_ She was jabbing at his chest now, fuming with all of her rage.

And Wheatley seemed speechless.

As Chell saw the look on his face, she felt her anger slowly ebb away into guilt. Something that she rarely had to deal with. He looked so shocked, so _hurt._ Chell wasn't a sensitive little nerve, but this seemed to strike her in the right spots.

But why? He was some random stranger she had never seen in her life. And yet, she felt like she had been holding this in, for someone specific. For doing something that did make that someone a moron. A huge moron. And here she was, taking it out on some poor man who seemed to be trying to do nothing but help.

"Then, I guess She was right, wasn't She?" he muttered. "About me being a moron. I guess you didn't forget everything."He turned away a bit. "Then again, I guess I deserved that. I mean, if I wasn't such a moron, I wouldn't have done those things to you. I should have thought twice. But what would I know! I'm just a bloody moron."

"Wait, Wheatley, I'm—"

"I did want to apologize for that, by the way. It was terrible. Being alone for so long, I deserved it, but I felt so, well, terrible. I was worse than She was towards you. I had it coming, didn't I?"

With a last glance to her, his bright eyes seeming dull, he turned away from her and walked off, ignoring her protests.

To Chell, everything he said seemed so true. Maybe she was brain-damaged. That would explain just about everything.


	3. Searching

The days went by and Chell's life went back to its usual pace. The same-old, same-old that she admired with bliss. The stable, ordinary life that she enjoyed so much. No sign of the déjà vu occurrences, no sign of the blue-eyed man, and none of those words and names that made her head spin.

She hated every second of it.

She didn't know why. She used to love this! It was so easy and she gained so much of it, sure it was a steady schedule, too steady, some would argue. But to her it was her life, and it was her choice to lead it that way, so why didn't it matter as much to her as it used to?

Her mind was filled with the images, the memories of that simple event that had knocked her world off its hinges. _The little things _that people make such a big deal of. Things that she would laugh at, but now, she couldn't find anything of that measure funny.

So that's when Chell decided that if the little extraordinary events wouldn't come back to her, she would have to go looking for them herself. After thinking that, she almost laughed at the idea of her old self's reaction to her saying such a thing. It would probably come as a simple question, _why? _Why look for something that would only mess things up? Why not enjoy what you have and _move on_?

It was funny how something had changed in her that day the little thing happened.

When Chell stepped out of the office, she took a deep breath and looked right. The way that led home, her usual first choice when she left work. Then, she turned left. This was where she had to go. She knew it, and walked on.

The streets felt alien to her. She had walked these roads many times before, but never like this. And frankly, it was a thrill to break out of the usual. She wanted to race through the streets after breaking out of the chains of everyday life. Except she wasn't about to do this. She was on a mission, and the first part of it was to find Wheatley.

So she searched the whole city, or at least the parts where he was most likely to be. Given the fact that she hardly knew him, it ended up being a city-wide search with no success. All the people she asked about him gave her blank stares, and she had just wasted six precious hours in the middle of the city. Worn out, she called up a taxi and rode it hope, and stepped out across the street from her apartment building, just to see a little surprise in front.

Wheatley stood there in front of her building, facing the doorman and arguing with him. It looked like things were getting heated, and Wheatley was almost begging the man to be allowed in. Chell started towards them, but before she could even step into the street she was stopped.

A woman had stepped in front of her. She looked strange, almost translucent in a way. As if blinking would make her vanish. She had bright white hair that almost looked dyed, and not age-induced. It was cropped to her chin, with not a single strand out of place. But that's not what caught Chell's attention.

Her eyes were an amber color that was almost orange. It had the same sort of odd brightness that Wheatley's eyes had, but many times more intense. The woman stood well over Chell's height, with a frame of authority that her boss couldn't even match.

Chell gulped as the woman's strange eyes bore into her. She searched for a word to say, and began to stammer out an apology, but was cut off by the stranger's voice.

"Heeeello, you must be… Chell." Her voice stretched out, changing tones slightly as she spoke on. It began as an almost robotic hum, and then changed to the voice of an older woman. "I've heard _so _much about you. Your work is truly _marvelous."_

That caught Chell's attention, of all the things to expect, she didn't see this coming. And to the woman, that was perfect.

"Well, thank you. It's great to know that I'm not the only one to understand what I write." Chell chuckled nervously. There was something about this woman that made her want to punch her. And it actually took a lot to resist.

"But." The woman continued, "You're not getting the credit you deserve. That's a fact. You can't just sit behind a desk and write all day only to be published as just some other unimportant article on the paper. You're just wasting your time."

Chell stared at her, waiting for her to continue.

"So that's why I'm here. I'd like to offer you a job. One that is worth over ten times as much as your current position. You'll become known."

"Whoa, wait. What? You expect me to give up my job, just like that?"

"Well, there is an interview. You must attend it." The woman's eyes dug into her own. Her own stare managed to make Chell shiver.

"Do I get a choice?" Chell chuckled sheepishly.

"There will be cake." The woman replied curtly, and was off. A small business card was in the spot where she had been standing. Chell bent over to pick it up. When she saw it, her eyes widened.

**Aperture Publishing co.**

**53341, 18****th**** Street, 7****th**** floor. **

_**We print what we must, because we can.**_

Next to the information was a logo resembling Chell's coffee stains. She dug in her bag for the paper but couldn't find anything. Crap. Aperture, Aperture. She vaguely remembered Wheatley mentioning that. Her head was spinning, it was all so connected. Maybe it was just a coincidence. No, Chell wasn't going to blow this off as a coincidence and avoid the facts. Calling things coincidences can make a person blind to the true facts.

Remembering what she saw when she arrived, she whipped around to face her building and ran across the street to have a look at it.

But Wheatley was long gone.


	4. Aperture Publishing Co

Whew, haven't updated in a bit. I had tons of tests this week.

ANYWAY.

I'm so happy that people are actually reading this and enjoying it and gosh, you're all so great, thank you. It really means a lot, haha.

So, this chapter's pretty short since at the moment I'm still a bit busy, but I'll update again really soon. Enjoy!

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Chell gazed up at the tall building before her, and back at the business card. Well, this was it. Aperture Publishing co. The building seemed to be made out of glass, reflecting the surrounding buildings and the clear sky, and at the parts where it wasn't, it was a smooth white that looked untouched, as if it was just painted yesterday.

She had butterflies in her stomach. Sure, she had never heard of Aperture Publishing co., as far as she knew. But for the company to own such a beautiful building all to themselves, it must be a pretty great place to work. Chell had no intention of leaving her current job, though. She loved writing the city paper; her audience was great, the pay wasn't bad, she had friendly co-workers and the freedom to pick her own topics. Starting over could screw that up for her, and she wouldn't risk it.

However, the strange woman had almost intimidated her. It left her unsettled, and she couldn't say no. She hated herself for falling into something she knew nothing about, by a person she never met. But there was no turning back now. Chell had one plan: Listen. Be polite. Leave.

She stepped in through the sliding doors and walked up to the receptionist. The grey logo that was on her card was glowing on the wall behind the receptionist's head. The walls were that same, smooth white that she saw outside, and the floor was an almost metallic grey.

"Can I help you?" Asked the woman. For some reason, she was wearing sunglasses, odd sunglasses. They covered her eyes and eyebrows, stretching around her head, and were perfectly straight. Chell decided not to ask, it could be something with her eyes, after all.

"Yes, I have an appointment with, uh…" Then Chell really saw how oblivious she was to the encounter with that woman. She didn't even mention her _name, _and Chell just went with it.

The receptionist nodded blankly. "Sixteenth floor, the elevator is to your right."

"But my appointment—"

"Sixteenth floor."

"If you say so." Chell turned right and stepped into the round elevator, pressing the button hesitantly. One part of her told her to get out. Get out and never come back. Forget this nonsense of finding out what's Aperture and who's Wheatley and what was wrong with her head. Go back to the usual life she once led.

The other part simply replied with a firm "No.", and that's what kept her going. The part of her that got her here, this far, and kept her going. She wouldn't give up on it.

When the door clicked open, she was greeted by a plain hallway that led forward before splitting into two.

She stepped to the fork slowly and looked both ways. One led to an office full of cubicles, the other just seemed to stretch on.

Chell jumped as a hand gripped her arm. She turned to face a man, his face devoid of expression. He had the same sunglasses that the woman downstairs had. She stared at the dark glasses expectantly.

"Come." He said, and led her away, a grip of steel on her arm.

The office was quiet except for the sound of typing. No breath could be heard, no chat between friends and workers, no joking around, it seemed like a prison. Chell knew where she wasn't going to be working. The workers themselves also had those glasses, and looked like they haven't seen sunlight in ages. Chell looked away, desperately wanting a way out and yet being held together by that other part of her.

All she knew was that it had better be right, or else she was screwed.

The man stopped beside large double-doors of metal. Chell studied him, expecting some reaction, but none came. She turned and stepped inside as the doors slid open. Huh. Electric doors for her own office, that's interesting.

The room was huge, for an office room. Chell thought of it as those rooms you see CEOs in movies having, where they stare out the window in their huge chairs and tell you how they've been expecting you.

But this wasn't a movie, and this woman _was_ expecting Chell. Instead of staring out the window, the woman sat facing her in the tall white chair. All there was on her desk was a thin screen that appeared to be a computer and a microphone. A grin formed onto her face as Chell stepped inside.

"Yes, come in. Don't just stand there, there's a chair right in front of my desk. We at Aperture are _thrilled _to have you here." She folded her hands in front of her. As the doors closed, she let out a bitter laugh.

"Now, _how _do you always manage to fall for that? Oh, that's right, you brain-damaged lunatic. Your memory."

She heard a humming sound above her head and looked up to see the ceilings opening, and a machine descending. Right towards her head.

Chell stood up quickly, knocking the chair over as she jumped away from it. "What's going on? Who are you?"

The woman looked pleasantly amused. "The reason you can't remember your own identity."


	5. Of Memories and Cake

Sorry for the wait! I had a pretty busy week, but I'm glad I just got everything out of the way. I'm getting pretty busy now, so I_ probably_ won't be able to update as often as I'd like, but I'll try to post something at least once a week.

So enough of that, enjoy chapter 5!

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Chell looked her in the eye, puzzled. "That's not possible. You can't just steal someone's memory."

"Advancements in science are great things." The woman's smug grin widened.

"How—"

"You were dangerous, number 1498. You knew too much. I couldn't leave you wandering outside the facility without some safety precautions in place." The woman seemed to be getting annoyed at Chell's confusion. "Oh, why bother. Just sit down, will you? Or do we have to do this the hard way?"

Chell stared at the machine which loomed closer to her head. She had to escape from here, there had to be a way. The gears turned in _that_ side of her brain. There was a window, but she was on the sixteenth floor. She'd rather lose her memory than get destroyed by gravity. Right now, however, losing her memory wasn't an option. She was on the brink of finding out something marvelous about herself. It was scary, she'd admit, because she had no idea if it was good or bad. But it got the blood pumping through her veins and her mind ticking like a clock. That had to mean something.

She glanced around the room. Bare, white walls surrounded her. Nothing useful in that. The door must have some locking mechanism, so that's not even worth a try.

She looked at the woman's desk. That microphone. Maybe, just maybe it could do something…

That's when she noticed the machine was barely an inch away from her head.

"See, that's better. When you just cooperate, you can go back to living your completely bland, normal life, and we'll have no problems. Isn't that better than fighting for nothing?"

_Think fast._

Chell ducked under the machine, which had barely touched her head, and rolled out from under it. She could still hear the cracks of electricity as the bulky helmet was activated. Glancing quickly to the desk, she took aim at the woman and rammed right into her.

Or tried to, but met nothing but air. She tumbled to the ground, her shoulder crashing beneath her.

"Did you really think it would be that easy?" The woman was looking down at her own hands, and now Chell understood why it was almost translucent. The pixels shivered in the air as the woman turned her hands over, her cunning grin spreading across her face. "I'm untouchable. Well, actually, I'm not even physically here. Why would I want to take the form of a _weak human, _of all things?"

Well, that's one problem out of the way. Chell stood up and rushed to the desk, quickly glancing up to check how much time she had. The machine was starting to turn towards her. All right, enough time to bust out of here. She studied the surface of the desk. Engraved onto the computer's sleek surface was one strange word. Strange, but familiar. It simply read "GLaDOS".

She glanced at the microphone, deciding not to waste time. Its surface was white and sleek, the stand was made of polished metal, and its wire retreated neatly into the desk. It was _definitely_ a microphone, Chell thought blankly, but how would she get it to work? Its surface was clear of any buttons; it didn't even seem connected to the computer.

She tapped it lightly and jumped as the sound rocked around the room. It was sound-sensitive, then. No wonder the woman's voice seemed to echo. "Ahem—We have an emergency! We need everyone to evacuate the building, and uh, open all doors! We need all doors open!"

She turned to glance at the woman. She was smiling. It was a sick grin, almost twisted. Chell glared at her expectantly, but that's when she heard the hum.

It was an electric hum, ringing into her ears. The hair on her head was rising, and the sound seemed to be getting progressively louder. Chell's eyes widened as she felt the machine fit over her head, and her body went still. She tried with all she could to move away, but she felt locked in place. Her head felt like it was floating away.

So that was it then. All this, for nothing. Who knew how many times this had happened? Was it every week? Or maybe even every day? Wiping her memories, her emotions, every little hint that could lead her to discover anything that was true about herself. She could feel the woman's artificial eyes boring into her. Waiting for her head to be wiped clean, and for her to become nothing but another puppet, walking the streets, clueless.

Chell sighed and felt her head uncontrollably roll back into the helmet. Any time now it would all disappear. Maybe the ordinary life was a good thing, she thought as she heard the cracks of electricity again. She could just throw this all away. Go back to writing like she used to, maybe even improve enough to become an editor. Then she'd enjoy the little things, the little things she never had time for.

That's when she realized the cracks weren't coming from the helmet, but rather from the door. From the corner of her eye, she could see it being pushed open, and a shape jumping into the room. And then there was that voice.

"How did _you _end up in this bloody place?" It was a hurried voice, almost panicked. "And what's that _thing? _It's almost like—Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. You never mentioned that you met _Her! _I mean, sure with all those, um, issues going on in your head, you wouldn't know. But you should have told me something—"

"_What are you doing here?_" Her voice was cold, almost threatening. The robotic pitch was back in her voice, and it sounded absolutely merciless. Chell understood why she tried to mask it.

Chell tried to clear her throat, but she still felt immobile. She forced her eyes over to glare at Wheatley.

"What? Look, I'm sorry if you don't understand anything that's going on, but it's all true! I promise, no matter how crazy it may seem to you! Because trust me, your life seems crazier to me than this all does. I mean, how do you just walk around like that all day and—"

Chell rolled her eyes up to the machine. _Come on. _She thought urgently. The clock ticked away, and any second now it would be over. All of this.

"—and those _cars _are absolutely terrifying and—what are you looking at, luv? Well, the ceiling is very nice, I agree, but we have to get out of here! Get that _thing _off your head and let's move."

"You're not going anywhere." The woman added coldly.

"Oh, yes she is!"

"No, she isn't."

Wheatley stepped up to the machine and tried to pull her out, but Chell's body was stuck to place. He pulled on, getting no results.

"Well, well! Of all the things you've managed to do to her, this one, by far, gets the cake!" Wheatley yelled, storming over to the woman.

Then, something Chell wasn't expecting happened. It seemed like the entire building had decided to stop. The cracks of the shocks in the heavy helmet above her head ceased abruptly, and although the woman seemed to mask it, frustration showed upon her digitalized face.

"You _complete moron._"

"_Emergency protocols approved." _Replied a mechanical voice from the speakers.

Then, she blinked out of existence. The GLaDOS computer had shut down, too. The echoing microphone was silenced, and the only light came from the large windows behind the desk. Chell could feel a twitch of movement returning to her limbs, like her whole body was just asleep for a bit too long. She felt weight return to her body, and the weight on her head seemed to be increasing.

With a huff, she lifted the bulky piece of machinery off her head and tossed it aside, where it swung and hung off the thick wires. She then turned to Wheatley, who looked like he just saw a pig grow wings.

"Well! I – I saw that coming! That went just according to plan! Break in, shut it down, and bust us out! Piece of cake." Wheatley crossed his arms over his chest with a proud grin.

"Cake." Chell echoed thoughtfully. "Why did that set her off? Why did that set _everything _off?" She said, glancing at all the dead machines.

"Emergency protocol. That was probably the secret code or something." Replied Wheatley in a thinking stance.

"Who is she?" Chell looked him in the eye and kept a straight face. Someone needed to get her up to date on all of this. _Especially _since they all seemed to treat her like some sort of hero who supposedly knew everything about these kinds of things. Who _was _she, anyway? If she truly lost her memory, she could have been anyone.

As Wheatley started to answer, they were interrupted by some thuds. It sounded like a marching band that was perfectly in sync, or an earthquake that would pause every other second.

They looked towards the door in unison to see the workers, a crowd of pale faces with frail features. Their glasses had vanished to show wide, bloodshot, hollow eyes of deep red pupils.

They lined up in perfect formation outside the open sliding doors.

"_Target acquired." _


	6. Promises

Oh gosh I've been so busy and I'm so sorry for that unannounced semi-hiatus guys. Anyway, I think things won't be as busy for the time being, but I might not be updating as often as I used to. (School calls, unfortunately.) but I'll definitely try to update often.

Anywho, thanks to all of you who have followed, or reviewed, or fave'd this story! You guys seriously make my day every time I get an email from here. So it means a lot.

Now, chapter 6!

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Chell stood there, puzzled by the strange workers. Her memory seemed all foggy, although she found that it's easy to remember if she focused, she doesn't remember those eyes. After they spoke, they all seemed to act as they had one mind, united. They all held their hands out, the pale fingertips facing her and clicking open like a toy.

Wheatley, on the other hand, was out of his head. His hands flew to his head and he bounced on his feet, muttering a variety of questions under his breath. But he couldn't miss that minor moment when the red glares flashed at them, and when he flung himself sideways, knocking Chell and himself onto the ground.

He fixates his gaze on her, his eyes wild with fear. Chell can almost feel his panic surging inside of him, but despite the chaos, he is capable of blurting out one word under the pressure of gunfire roaring behind them.

"Run."

After Chell and Wheatley fell to the ground, the workers had shifted to one side of the small double-doors to fixate their aims correctly. Unfortunately, they didn't seem used to moving on their own, and settled as a confused blob taking up half the room the duo had to make their escape.

So they dashed past the turrets and through the maze of clustered cubicles. Chell could hear the steady march of turrets behind her. She felt lucky to have the advantage of speed against them, but knew that meant nothing against the gunfire they could let loose.

"There's no bloody exits in this place!" Wheatley shouted, keeping his pace behind Chell, "The elevators were shut down and all the power is off. We're trapped, and we're going to die in here. Oh, no. So much for getting out of that prison and finding you in the middle of all these stinking humans, and now we're going to die the same way we would have in there?! Fantastic. And here I thought I'd never see a turret again…"

"Wheatley, focus. There has to be a stairwell somewhere." Replied Chell, looking for one of the famous red "EXIT" signs.

Luckily, there seemed to be one right to her side, straight ahead. The sign wasn't on, but it obviously meant a way out for them. Chell picked up her pace and flung the metal door open, shutting it behind the two of them right before the sound of gunfire filled their ears again. The sound of bullets striking metal filled their ears.

"You're brilliant! How did you find this? This is perfect, so perfect! I could never understand why you humans had these _stairs. _I mean, sure, we had some along walkways, but I never understood what their functions were when elevators existed!" Wheatley then went on to ramble about the pros and cons of elevators, and how magnificent these simple steps were, as Chell just stared at him blankly. Gunfire roared in the background, but the persistence of the turrets was completely futile. Eventually, Wheatley's words faltered, and he just stared at Chell questioningly.

"What is it, luv?" He asked hesitantly.

Chell continued to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "I'm waiting for you to explain this to me. All of this. Tell me what the hell is going on, and who I am."

"Well, at least your head's still functioning after your head went in that huge metal chunk, but what if the turrets get us here?"

"I'm waiting."

"Can we at least get out of here? Grab one of those – what was it again? – human concessions or drinks? And sit over a table and then chat over it like good pals? How about that?" He spoke each option as if having a snack together was the most fascinating thing in the world, and as much as Chell was in awe of this man, if that's even something she can call him, she wanted the details now. No more memories being lost. No more robots. None of the ongoing crap that keeps getting between her and the truth about herself.

She wanted it all _now. _And she damn well thought she deserved it, after all this.

"You're not going to listen to me, are you? Can we just _please _get to safety? I'll tell you everything you want to know, all of it! Just get us out, why don't you, and then I'll be able to give it all to you without a problem! What do you say, girl, please?" He gave her a feeble smile and a hopeful spark in his eye, and for some reason, Chell decided to go with it.

"Fine. But if anything happens, and you don't give me all the details, know that I will hold it against you."

He grinned in response, "I promise, I won't hide anything. After all, unless you know all the details, you won't be able to save Aperture again, and then She'll be able to kill you without a problem, and then, bam. It's farewell to the laboratories!" Wheatley nodded along with each phrase, seeming strangely confident on what he was saying, "But, anyway! That's for me to tell you once we're out! Now, why don't we get a move on?"

Chell was more than happy to get out of the dark stairwell. The only light came from small windows that dotted the bland walls, and by the time they reached the bottom, Chell's chest was heaving, and she mentally cursed herself for slacking on her workouts. This should have been nothing to her, and yet here she was, panting like a dog without water.

Wheatley gave her a side glance, and decided to ask, "How are you doing there, luv? You all right?"

Chell simply glared up at him, how did the guy carry all that height and not get tired? Sure, he was strange, but nothing could explain that. "It's a stunning human condition called _fatigue._ Shocking, isn't it? What stairs can do to a _human_?" His only reply was a confused look, "Sorry." She added, "It's become a habit."

He didn't seem to mind and they exit the building without any problems. Chell is happy enough to see and feel sunlight once again. She couldn't imagine being stuck anywhere without it. How would that even be possible?

Wheatley, on the other hand, instantly raised a hand to block his eyes and turned to her. "Lead the way!"

And so she did, all the way back to her apartment building. Wheatley made many attempts to start up conversation, but she didn't want to hear anything until she knew exactly what was up. As they arrived, Chell almost missed the triumphant grin Wheatley flashed the doorman on their way in, and they made their way upstairs and into the cramped studio apartment.

They sat down on a small living room table, and Chell heard his knees hit her table. Oh, right. Tower in the area. She then decided that maybe the sofa chairs would be a safer alternative, and they sat down facing each other.

"Okay." Wheatley began, "Promise me this, no matter how outlandish any of this sounds, you'll believe every word I say. This is all going to sound like nothing you've seen on Earth, but it's all true."

"Wheatley, I survived this day. I think I'm capable of hearing my life story."

"Promise."

She nodded, "I promise."


End file.
